


el chico del apartamento 512

by wendlaswound



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Pining, YES IT IS BASED ON ANOTHER SPANISH SONG DONT COME AT ME YOU CAN ALL AT LEAST UNDERSTAND THIS, whizzvin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-03-04 11:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13363878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendlaswound/pseuds/wendlaswound
Summary: Whizzer might have fallen in love too easily, but this was really pushing it. Pining, whining, and awkward smiling. This has got it all.





	1. pobre corazón

**Author's Note:**

> I had originally planned for this to be a super long oneshot, but a) I haven't had time to finish it and b) I'm impatient. So here's a wee little teaser! Inspired by the song El Chico Del Apartamento 512 by Selena. There are English captions on Youtube okay y'all let my sappy Spanish songs inspire me.

Whizzer sometimes wondered if he fell in love too easily. He was never very self-critical of this, and he didn’t necessarily think of having a _problem_ whenever he entertained the thought. There were always standards he addressed. There was always a rational. Fickle feeling never lasted _too_ long. Sometimes he fell in love for an hour. Sometimes a day. There was a plethora of men out there, and they all had their attributes that Whizzer could admire. It wasn’t love, though, and he knew it, though the jumpiness inside his chest could have fooled him. His spells were fleeting throughout high school; a quick kiss behind the bleachers, pining for a week over the cute guy from Taco Bell, but that was all. In college, yes, he had a few flings. But none were _irrational_ , and none were anything serious. Those weren’t love either, and he knew it, but the ache in his stomach could have fooled him. Now that he was on his own, he found himself alone more often than he would have thought if you’d asked him a few years earlier. There was always that rare successful blind date he’d drag up to his poorly apartment after a delightful (or desperate) dinner. They never called him back. It probably would have wounded his pride if he was unable to maintain his well-fortified self-image.

But after _this_ , he was minutely panicked. There was nothing outwardly love-worthy of this man. Whizzer had nothing to make of him other than the few moments they’d passed each other in the hall, when Whizzer had helped him carry a box to his new apartment. The man was sweating, his hair curled in tight ringlets around his face and his cheeks shiny red, like Santa Claus. But then he smiled, and Whizzer thought, _oh, no._

“Thanks. I’m Marvin,” the man said, and held out his hand.

Whizzer took it and had to fight to keep his voice calm when he answered. “No problem. I’m Whizzer, I live right across the hall.”

“Oh, great. Well, nice meeting you, neighbor.”

“Yeah, nice meeting you, too.”

Marvin was off to get the next of the boxes, leaving Whizzer in the threshold across from his own, dumbstruck and blushing.

_This is going to be hell_ , Whizzer decided, feeling giddy dread sink to his toes so quickly that his ears popped, before spinning around to his own door. He gave an awkward, anxious salute to Marvin’s, _512._ Whizzer had previously considered using it as an extra storage space if no one moved in. Now he wished he had. Now it was just stuffed with premeditated baggage.

He closed the door and looked into his small apartment, his head spinning. He grabbed the edge of the counter and took a few deep breaths. The only thing he could see was Marvin’s smile, he could only hear his bright voice. He was getting a headache and he felt nauseous.

Oh, no. Was he lovesick? It had been, like, _two minutes_.

“Get a grip!” he shouted to himself, but it only made his headache worse.

Whizzer groaned and slumped over. He needed to take a nap.


	2. esperanza de verlo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whizzer is a wreck, but what's new

Whizzer did not leave his apartment for two whole days. Fortunately, he worked from home, so this was not a major issue. But Whizzer had no idea what he would do if he saw Marvin again. Hence, the not leaving his apartment. Marvin was  _ a door away _ . 513. 512. Three steps and he’d be there.

It was too close.

It was too far. Whizzer put his face in his hands. He could not remember a time when he had been so pathetic, when someone’s smile had made him melt so completely. It was ridiculous, and he did not like it. Not at all. He had already called and cried to Cordelia the past two nights, after refusing to risk going up to her room. Three nights in a row might be a bit excessive, he thought.

Something between a sigh and a whimper escaped his chest as he gave up and reached for his phone, clicking to the first name on his recent calls.

“Oh my god, this needs to be stopped. _You_ need to be stopped,” Cordelia snapped as she picked up. “If you won’t come up, I’m coming down.”

“Thank you,” Whizzer murmured, but she had already hung up. He collapsed on his bed and laid stoic until Cordelia came. He was grateful for his foresight of trusting her with a key; that way he didn’t have to get up.

The door slammed.

“Hey, I saw your hot neighbor in the hall and told him you want to ride his dick!”

“Cordelia!” Whizzer shouted, jumping up to scold her. “The walls are thin around here!”

“I’m just kidding, anyway,” she teased, throwing her bag on the floor and laying out across his couch like the cat Whizzer always wanted but couldn’t get because of housing regulations. He grabbed a pillow and sat on the floor, limp like a puddle. “I did not see this mystery man that has you slapped silly.”

“I believe the term the kids used these days is ‘whipped’.”

Cordelia nodded thoughtfully. “Like a cream. You’re a merengue at this point.”

Whizzer groaned.

He couldn’t see – because he had buried his face in the pillow – but he heard Cordelia sit up on the couch, giggling.

“Okay, serious business now. You’ve talked to this guy, what, twice?”

“Once.”

“Jesus. Okay, this is worse than I thought.”

“Mmmmph.”

“Whizzer. Look at me.”

He did. Cordelia sighed at his dramatic pout.

“We’re going to get through this. Together. You know how you are. It’ll be best if we just wait it out. Let the storm clouds of love pass” She curled up back on the couch. “You don’t really think anything is going to come of this, do you?”

“Cordelia. He lives five feet away from me.”

“Okay, you have a point there. But he could be married. _Or straight._ ” They both shivered.

“And you have a point there. I don’t know. I really don’t. But… just-“

“What was it? His ‘radiant smile’?”

“Mmph.”

“Or maybe his ‘bright, warm voice, like you just took a big gulp of a vanilla caramel latte’?”

“Stoooop. Please. I cannot handle any more.”

Cordelia’s laugh was light, even as her voice sunk until it was nearly a whisper. “Okay, okay. It’s just cute. I mean, I’ve seen you love-struck, but never to this degree. Especially about someone you _barely know.”_

“I’ve already established the fact that this crush is absolutely ridiculous and unfounded.”

Cordelia gasped before he went on. “YOU SAID THE C-WORD.”

“Oh my god.”

Cordelia covered her mouth. Whizzer buried his face in the pillow again. He was considering suffocating himself.

“Oh boy, oh man, it’s over now. You’re done for. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Cordelia, if you keep making a big deal out of this I might vomit. Or never talk to you again. Or both. Uuhh, I’m feeling woozy.”

Cordelia did not move. She did not say a word, only high pitched wheezes escaped her covered mouth. When she finally took her hands away and came down to comfort him, she was smiling.

“We both know what this means.”

“We do?” Whizzer asked. “I think you’re thinking of a different we.”

“No, dummy. You’re never going to get out of this if you don’t do something about it.”

“Uhhhohhh.”

“So.”

“Uggghhh.”

“You’re just.”

“Gah.”

“Going to have to.”

“Mhmmmphmmm.”

“Do something about this.”

“Blech- okay, I might actually be getting sick. Please get off of me.”

“Okay, okay. This conversation is over. Time for cheesy movies and ice cream.” She stood, now looking down on him. “But you know you won’t get over this unless you actually take charge. No matter the outcome.”

Whizzer groaned and set aside the pillow. “You’re right.”

“Fuckin’ course I am. Now, what first? Pitch Perfect, or 27 Dresses?” Cordelia shrugged. “That’s all I have on hand right now.”

Standing, Whizzer sighed. “Just put on the Hallmark channel. I already want to die; not much can make it worse at this point.”

Cordelia made a thin whining noise, but didn’t complain further. She tossed him a bag of sour gummy worms before flipping to the channel. After a few minutes, Whizzer at once realized that he was sitting on the floor of his own apartment while Cordelia took up his whole couch. He sat on her legs.

A few times throughout the night, Cordelia asked him if he was feeling better. His answer was always no. She stayed and played another movie, and was still there even when the Full House re-runs started.

“Okay, I am gay. You know that, I know that. But I’ve always kind of had a thing for Uncle Jesse. Mmm,” she confessed. Whizzer laughed.

“Me too,” he responded.

For a while, Marvin escaped his mind. It was like Marvin had never moved in, and the crush had never even happened. Cheesy, poorly written movies were the key to killing romance, he reasoned.

But eventually it returned, along with the butterflies and the inability to focus and the icky hollowness in his gut. He sunk deeper into the couch cushions and went for another bag of gummy worms.

At one point or another, the sun rose and it was five in the morning, and Cordelia finally reasoned that she could not stay any longer.

It was now just Whizzer and the door across the hall.

The idea of going out of his apartment to face it gave him such anxiety that he passed out and woke up in the early evening to a cheek sticky with drool, an ache in his heart, and no idea what to do next.

* * *

 

Whizzer took the next logical step, which was to find and sift through all of Marvin’s social media profiles. He found a Facebook that listed his university, and an Instagram that had zero posts, no profile picture, and could have been a different Marvin altogether.

In short, Whizzer made very little progress.

He pulled himself together enough to get dressed and do some work, though he couldn’t get Marvin out of his mind. And he had, what, fifteen seconds of interaction to play back. That was all. He was starting to pull out his hair. And he never abused his hair.

He texted Cordelia during lunch. Her response was “Eat your feelings.”

Whizzer took that advice and ate half of the pie she had given him the week before. The hollowness subsided, but the ache did not.

“Hit me up with a chocolate cherry pie next time. Maybe that will fill my empty heart with some more effective placebo love calories.”

She texted a frowny face in response.

Whizzer was trapped. He couldn’t leave without being overwhelmed with unfounded feelings. But those same feelings wouldn’t go away if he just sat in his room. No crush he’d ever had had been so literal.

He took a deep breath, hardened his resolve, and made a game plan.

Step one: go downstairs and get his mail.

That was a good start. It would get him out of his apartment, create the potential for an interaction between him and Marvin, and do something productive, all at once.

Standing, he smiled, proud of himself for making progress in his recovery effort. He marched towards his door, ready to take on the world again.

But fate and karma and all the other mystical forces that were out to ruin his life cut this confidence short, as the door across from Whizzer’s opened at the same moment. It was almost as if he was looking into a mirror, how precisely the frames played out against his own actions, and how his heart rate skyrocketed in a mimicked rhythm. The reflection failed to show the sudden pain in his chest and the unsheltered desire to fling himself back inside when he realized what was happening.

As Marvin recognized him, Whizzer forced himself into an amiable grin, which probably came out as more of a frightened grimace. “Hey, Marvin,” he managed without his voice cracking or any other major embarrassment. Though he did feel his cheeks going red, which was not a good sign, he forced a face to show nothing was amiss. His anxiety was growing which would only make it more difficult to maintain. Even his high school acting career did little to aid him in his farce. He at once decided to never leave his apartment ever again.

“Hey. Whizzer, right?”

Whizzer only nodded, not wanting to risk the stableness of his voice. They both turned, with the same timing, to go down the hall to the stairs. The awkwardness of that well-known silence swelled with each of their matching steps. Before they crossed into the stairwell, Marvin cut through some of the thickness. Which was great, because Whizzer sure as hell hadn’t been about to open his mouth. He couldn’t have been sure of what would have come out.

“I’m just going to get my mail. I hope my address change went through.”

“Me too. Well, not the address change, but… you know.” He was doing _so great._ Ugh. He was like a baby gay at their first frat party, trying to flirt cleverly and get hammered at the same time. Those two end goals were most definitely mutually exclusive.

“Ha, yeah. How long have you lived here?”

Wait, an actual conversation was brewing? And Whizzer hadn’t spontaneously combusted yet? He supposed he really was doing better than he’d expected. Maybe there was still hope. His heart fluttered dangerously and he made a mental note to ask his doctor about chronic heart palpitations at his next appointment.

“Oh, about a year and a half. My friend Cordelia lives a floor up; she’s been here almost three years.”

“Wow, so you guys are proper residents. Anything I should know about the place? Like, noisy neighbors? Strict landlords?”

“Uhhh… there’s a lot of college kids around this blocks, so sometimes the parties get a bit wild, but nothing really bad. Nothing you need to actively avoid, or anything. Just, like, don’t get freaked about the half-empty bottles of vodka lining the streets sometimes.”

“Great.”

Another lull, dangerously bordering on the same repressive awkwardness. Whizzer rose to the occasion this time. He could take on that much. He had gotten this far, and there was no turning back now. “What brings you here?”

“Grad school.”

“Really? What are you studying?” Oh shit, he was smart too. Whizzer wasn’t on the hunt for a man with brains or anything, but he wasn’t going to pass one up, either.

“Medicine.”

“Wow, I couldn’t do that. I get faint when I get a papercut.”

Marvin laughed, and, _dear god,_ would he have things to say to Cordelia later. “Yeah, I couldn’t be a surgeon or anything. But I guess I’m a bit… I’m not sure. I guess I’m good at finding people’s broken parts. I just need practice at fixing them. Which is why I went into med-school in the first place.”

Whizzer laughed because he couldn’t do anything else. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

They had reached the end of the stairs, but not of the conversation. Whizzer didn’t know how much longer he would last. Little side glances to Marvin, noticing how his curls bounced when he walked and how his lips gave the smallest hint of a smile before they broke all the way, it was leaving Whizzer lightheaded and out of breath. Dare not Marvin think he was that out of shape that he could not handle a set of stairs. (Even though that was more or less the truth.) He briefly debated attempting to maneuver his shirt so that he could inadvertently show off his abs. He decided against it, though was a bit disappointed, nevertheless.

“Where do you work?” Marvin asked him as they found their mailboxes.

“Oh,” Whizzer had to work to keep the nerves out of his voice. “I’m a writer. A journalist.” And he’d been one for years now, but he couldn’t help the embarrassment that flooded his face when he said it. Usually he hid it better, but he was talking with an attractive guy working towards his doctorate. Yeah, he felt a bit inadequate.

“That’s awesome! I always wanted to be a part of the school newspaper. I never did though, I never wanted to go to the meetings.”

“Oh, I never did, either. I just needed to pick a major. It was impulsive.”

Marvin laughed again. Whizzer’s hands may have started shaking as he opened his mailbox. “Well, at least it worked out for you.”

“Yeah, it did.”

They made their way back upstairs mostly in silence. When they finally got back to their hall, Marvin’s hand lightly hovered over Whizzer’s shoulder as he went to ask a question. Whizzer had to stop and concentrate on walking so that he wouldn’t fall over and make an even bigger fool of himself.

“Hey, could you tell me where the nearest pharmacy is? I have some things I still need to pick up.”

“Um, yeah it’s about three blocks down east, and then on the second street after that. Next to the Subway.”

“Could you just text me the address? I haven't a clue about directions around here. Or anywhere, really.” Marvin started to pull out his phone before Whizzer had even responded. 

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

They exchanged numbers silently, then hovered in the hall a moment longer.

“Well,” Marvin said after one beat too many. “I’ll see you around, Whizzer.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you.”

When Whizzer closed his door behind him, he let out a breath that he didn’t even know he had been holding. The toxic emptiness he was left with stung his throat, and his phone was stiff in his palm, warm from Marvin’s touch.

* * *

 

“Oh, my god, he was FLIRTING WITH YOU!” Cordelia shrieked, and Whizzer had to hold the phone away from his ear.

“Dells, I really don’t think so. Please don’t give me false hope here. That’s the absolute last thing I need right now.”

“Whiz. Alright. I need you to listen to me for one moment,” she said firmly, then took a big bite of the panini she was eating (he knew it was a panini, because it was a Friday, and Cordelia had instated panini Friday’s since before Whizzer met her) which meant Whizzer was forced to listen to her chew for a long minute before he got to hear any of her unsolicited encouragement.

“Ok. First of all, you were definitely not being subtle about your feelings at all. I wasn’t even there, and I know it. That’s how obvious it was. I know, I know, he doesn’t know you. But most normal people… aren’t you when you’re crushing. You’re a different breed.”

“Wow, I feel special.”

“Shut up. But for real, he didn’t have to ask you where there’s a Walgreens. I’m pretty confident that someone who got into med-school can figure out Google Maps.”

“He could have just been continuing the conversation.”

“But you were already at your doors, practically! And he didn’t have to ask for your number, in any case.”

Whizzer felt the weight in his throat sink to his chest. “Oh. I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

Whizzer didn’t know how to cope anymore. He threw himself back on his couch with a dramatic sigh. “What am I going to do _now_?”

“You’re going to get on with your life. And if you get some dick, you get some dick. Just chill out. You’re more charming when you’re not a nervous wreck.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Clichés aren’t going to help you now, lover boy.”

Cordelia, though he loved her to pieces, wasn’t always the most supportive. Her style was definitely more gentle tough love and harsh truths. He loved her and despised her for it.

“Hey,” Whizzer started, the beginnings of a grin spreading across his face. “Whatever happened to that cute girl that always orders a grande double shot? Charlotte?”

Cordelia sucked in a breath before the line went dead. Whizzer chuckled. It wasn’t like there was any more to say. He was in puppy love and he had no idea how to drag himself out of it.

But if Marvin actually was interested in him, maybe he wouldn’t have to.


	3. que no puedo entregar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things get serious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's short and also all my falsettos fics are probably loosely happening in the sameish universe its fine

Whizzer spent the next week in a daze, but it was a productive daze. He started going on early morning runs, even if it was just that so he could watch Marvin hop on his bike and leave for his classes. He wrote so much that he had all of his commissions for the month at least drafted, which gave him more time to wander the halls and wait for a glimpse of his neighbor. They were few and far between, which disappointed Whizzer, but did not discourage him. He made himself dinners, went out to lunch with Cordelia, and even coerced her into asking Grande Double Shot Charlotte out the next time she came into The Grind, the coffeehouse that Cordelia owned.

It was going swimmingly.

Or it was, until the next Panini Friday when Cordelia stormed into his apartment with a box of Italian takeout in hand and a shell-shocked look on her face. Her dramatic makeup only made it that much more intense, her eyes popping with their thick outline of black and her hot pink lips pursed in an ‘O’.

“There’s a girl.”

“Oh?” Whizzer asked slyly, turning away from his scrunched desk. “A cute, high strung, very caffeinated girl? Or-“

“No, Whizzer. A girl with Marvin.”

An explosion must have happened outside his window, because suddenly Whizzer’s ears were deaf and ringing and he struggled to keep himself in his chair. “What?”

“I just saw her leave his apartment. She was smiling and flirty. And really pretty, too. I’ve seen her in the halls before. _In pajamas._ Skanky ones.” Cordelia threw herself down on his couch, spread her legs out, ripped open the cardboard box, and declared “Fuck,” before tearing off a bite of panini.

Whizzer couldn’t figure out how to react. All of his nerves were sending panic signals to his brain and he floundered for breath, for the mental strength to piece together Cordelia’s discovery.

She turned to him and he looked up at her, unable and unwilling to do anything else. “I have a turkey pesto with your name on it.”

He choked back a sob before nodding and reaching out to take the sandwich.

* * *

 

“She’s probably just a twink, Whizzer. Just one of his hoes. It means nothing. Maybe he’s bi. Or pan. Or one of those guys that have ‘experimented’ but don’t want to ‘label themselves.’ Or maybe he also has a lesbian best friend that seems to live with him but actually doesn’t. This isn’t the end,” Cordelia attempted to console him, but he was beyond simply reassurances by that point.

“But it is!” Whizzer moaned like a marooned whale. “I don’t want to be another one of his hoes. It’s scientifically proven that if you have one hoe you probably have more hoes. Statistical probability is telling me to give up. I can’t fucking believe I’ve been agonizing all this time over a _straight piece of hoeing shit._ ”

“It’s been, like, a week and a half.”

“ALL THIS TIME! Wasted! God, I’m deplorable.”

“Are you drunk? You only use big words when you’re drunk.”

Whizzer slumped up so that he was facing Cordelia and rubbed his face roughly. “I just, I don’t know what to do. I know I can’t be with him now but I’m feeling no potential of getting over it. Remember Billy?”

“That guy who you thought was inviting you over to bang but he really just wanted to show you his collection of vintage McDonald’s toys? And then he low key made a reference to the time when he made out with his sister and you said you had to feed my dog and you left?”

“Yeah. I got over that one before I even got to my car.”

“Well, I don’t know. I think this could still work out.”

“You were telling me to not even try at the start of this!”

“Well, yeah, but that was before I saw him. I’m a lesbian and even I can see the daddy potential in him.”

“Ugh, never say that again.”

“Fair enough.”

The silence lulled into their familiar warm friendship, cooled by the blue light of dusk settling over Whizzer’s room. He got up to close the window, and when he turned Cordelia was snuggling up on his couch, her gaze sleepy.

Whizzer sighed, and for a moment his ravaged heart could beat steadily. “Are you staying here tonight?”

“If you don’t mind. Tomorrows my day off, anyway. Maybe we can do something fun.”

Despite himself, Whizzer snorted. “Why have fun when you can have a quarter life crisis?”

“Oh please. You have at least two more years before that hits. This is whatever the opposite of an aftershock is.”

Whizzer thought for a moment. “Foreshock?”

Giggling, Cordelia reached out to poke him. “See? All the big words. Also, that sounds mildly sexual and I’m using it as an innuendo now.”

Whizzer tucked a blanket over her. “Goodnight, Cordelia.”

“Goodnight. Oh, I forgot to tell you. I went out with Charlotte.”

“You did _what?_ And you’re only telling me _now?”_ He was aghast, disgusted at this thing he called his friend.

She sat up slowly. “See? The thing with Marvin’s hoe was only a foreshock. You were foreshook.”

“Now is not the time for your weak innuendo puns. When?”

“Yesterday. She came in and I asked her if she wanted to hang out after my shift. She said yes, asked me when I got off. I took off my apron and said ‘now.’ Good thing someone else was working. Otherwise, that would have been bad for business. But… we sat and talked for a while. I made her try two other drinks on the house because her coffee knowledge is limited at best. She’s really funny, and smart, and it turns out she’s going to med school with Marvin.”

“You told her about Marvin?!”

“No, no. I told brought her to my place and she told me her classmate just moved here and I clarified.”

Whizzer was speechless for a moment. Everything tonight had been overwhelming, but he supposed that was Cordelia’s style. “Wait… you brought her home after _one date?_ ”

Cordelia grinned, settling back onto the pillow. “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell. But it was _incredible_.”

“You naughty bitch. The next time there’s a monumental shift in your love life I better be in the know ASAP. If not, I’m taking back my key.”

“I already stashed copies around the city, so it’s not like it would do any good.”

Whizzer chuckled softly, suddenly struck with how tired he was. “I love you, Delly.”

“I love you too, Whizzer. But you need to learn to check your pining otherwise I don’t know if I can go out in public with you anymore.”

Whizzer stood to flick off the light with a sigh and a smile. “Goodnight.”

* * *

 

Whizzer woke up far too late and much too groggy, but Cordelia had made coffee and the scent was enough to drag him out of his depressed blanket cocoon. Actually, it wasn’t quite enough, and he dragged a long trail of quilt with him to the kitchen. Cordelia sat on a stool, scrolling through her phone and chugging a cup of pure black coffee made from her special stash of super strong beans. He knew because she only broke it out for rough mornings post emotional trauma.

“Morning, sleepy head!” she chirped far too brightly. She hopped up and ruffled his hair, and he was too unwilling to drop his blanket that he didn’t even swat her hand away. Ushering him to a chair, she plopped a mug in front of him and filled it half with milk, half with steaming coffee, and topped it off with caramel syrup. He was more of an iced coffee guy, but Cordelia still knew what he liked.

He took a long gulp before he looked back at her, grinning psychotically.

“You’re rather… excited this morning. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing really. Nothing new with _me_ anyway.”

Her smirk was now smug. Whizzer was worried. Panicked, actually, but he was still drowsy enough that the full effects had not kicked in.

“Delly, what are you doing?”

“Me? Nothing.”

They stared at each other for several moments.

“… but you did get a text from Marvin this morning.”

“ _What_?”

“Hey, you left your phone on the table. I was an innocent passerby.”

“Holy shit. I don’t know if I can do this right now. Or ever. Oh, god, I have to move to Canada. Help me get a ladder, I can’t reach my suitcase.”

“Whoa, bud, stop hyperventilating.”

“This is no time for dawdling Cordelia.”

“And it’s also not the time to overreact.” She gripped his shoulders, which remarkably steadied him, and his heart rate plummeted to a healthy pattern. He let his head drop to the counter in hopes that the room would stop spinning. It didn’t.

Whizzer let himself have a moment to piece what he could of his rationality back together, Cordelia’s hand steadying him.

“I think you need some more coffee,” she told him, then filled his mug again, drowning it in caramel and chocolate syrup this time. Might as well throw a scoop of ice cream in at that point, he thought, but he didn’t tell her that. It actually sounded kind of good, though. For a few moments he considered leaving his stoop for the freezer, but then determined that he’d probably need as much ice cream as possible later. 

Shakily, Whizzer raised his head and pulled the blanket over it so it was sheltered. A few tentative sips of his coffee were taken, and he prepared himself for destruction.

“My phone.”

Cordelia slid it to him over the counter.

In his best actor voice so that he could hide any spontaneous emotions, Whizzer read the text aloud. “’Hey, neighbor!’ Jesus fuck, he’s awkward.”

“You only didn’t notice how awkward he was because you were too busy being awkward yourself,” Cordelia pointed out unhelpfully. “Keep going.”

Whizzer shot her an unappreciative eye roll before continuing. “’I feel dumb for asking, but I’m still utterly lost around here. I was wondering if you could show me around, hit up some good cafes and whatnot.’ What does ‘whatnot’ mean?”

“I don’t know! Keep going!”

“That’s it!”

They both sighed tiredly. Whizzer shrunk into his quilt. “Is he… asking me out by asking me if I’ll take him out? Or is that my tiny gay brain using its last three brain cells to be a pining idiot?”

“No, no,” Cordelia rubbed his shoulders encouragingly. “That’s what I was thinking it was, too.”

“But the girl!”

“The girl, indeed. I don’t know. I say you go for it. At the worst, it’s a crappy date. At the very worst but expected, he’s straight, and at least you get some closure. It’s not like you leave your apartment much anyway. Oh my god! You can take him to The Grind! Then I can stalk your date and be there for emotional support if it absolutely goes to hell!”

Whizzer considered this for a moment, considered the worst that could happen to him if it went south. The absolute worst was probably having to find a new apartment, which at that point wasn’t the shittiest direction his life could take. “You know, that might actually work.”

“Alright, now you have to respond.”

“Oh god, what do I say?”

“… how about tomorrow? He’s the one who texted you, so you can’t be the more desperate one.”

“You are correct. Alright. How does ‘Sure! I know a café about a block from here that we can go to. Meet me in the hall tomorrow at 10?’ sound?”

Cordelia played around with the words for a moment, then gave him an affirmative nod. “Send it.”

“Sent.”

“Nice, now-“

“Oh, shit. He’s texting back already.”

“Oh my god. He really _is_ desperate. Even if he is straight, this is a rather aggressive way to make friends with your neighbors.”

“… have you ever known a straight person that _is_ friends with their neighbors?”

“… a riveting counter-point.”

They waited anxiously, cheeks pressed together and staring at the thought bubble with its aggravating ellipsis. When the text came in, they gasped in unison.

_Sounds great! See you then ;)_

Whizzer sighed. “Well, that was underwhelming.”

“No! Look! He used a basic baby emoji! With the winky eye! The flirty eye!”

“It could have been a typo.”

“… stop lying to yourself.”

“Cordelia, only straight people still use the keyboard emojis.”

She sat back. “Again, you have a point. I don’t know. I think you just gotta roll with this one. It’s going to be an experience no matter how it turns out. And he lives right there, so it’s not like you can ignore it and pretend it will just go away.”

“And you’re correct with that. Well. I don’t know. I can’t worry about it until tomorrow.”

“Untrue. But we do have to occupy ourselves for the rest of the day to stall the anticipation.”

Whizzer propped himself so he could see Cordelia better. “What, you’re not going off to have a sappy sweet lovey-dovey day with Charlotte? And leave me to my lonely tears of unrequited love?”

“You need me now. Lottie understands.”

“Nicknames already? Cordelia, this is no little fling.”

She shrunk back, blushing and holding in giggles unsuccessfully. “Is it too early to say I’m in love? Oh, fuck it. I can’t help what I’m feeling. I’m in love!”

They laughed together for a moment before their ecstasy settled. After a quick breath, Cordelia shot up.

“Well. Go put on some clothes. I’m taking you to lunch.”

“Dells, really-“

“No complaining! We’re both shutting up about our love lives and having a day for ourselves. Now get going. Move it!”

“Alright, alright.” He stood, and with a sigh shrugged his quilt off his shoulders. In the mirror that hung behind his door, he could see all of himself. His reflection was a deflated, gray, stale cutout of a human.

Whizzer sighed, defeated, then went to put on a pair of jeans that didn’t have holes and a bright jacket to distract from the bags under his eyes and the fact that he hadn’t taken the time to do his hair.

When Whizzer couldn’t hold a comb effortlessly, he knew it was bad.

 


End file.
